Exile from Aiur: A Tale of the Dark Templar
by Judicator Aldaris
Summary: A historical tale of the exile of the Rogue Tribes from Aiur. Not complete yet so please bear with me for a while.
1. Rebellion Uprising

CHAPTER 1: Rebellion Uprising  
  
The four moons of Aiur, each at their fullest, loomed over the dark horizon. Their gentle, silvery light cast long shadows in the endless swaying fields of lush grass, the fields which Veladia, Matriarch of the Venatir Tribe, knew with dread that she might never see again.  
  
The howl of a Bengalass shattered the icy silence of the Protoss night.  
  
"Return to your masters, Talleron," said Veladia. "And take with you the knowledge that my tribe will never surrender their free wills to your Conclave. Neither will I allow myself to succumb to the Khala!"  
  
"Matriarch," said the Zealot. " You face exile if you do not follow the Conclave's wishes!"  
  
The glare that the old Protoss gave him spoke for itself. Talleron silenced himself and shrunk back, before being dismissed by a slight wave from the Matriarch's hand. He bowed respectfully and made off towards the awaiting shuttle.  
  
Veladia turned to gaze at the cool night sky. The four moons that hung low over the horizon seemed to emit a cold, harsh light, along with a sense of utter foreboding. Gone was the gentleness that she had felt just minutes ago.  
  
Soon. she thought.  
  
The Matriarch turned to face Raszagal, a 500-year-old female who would soon, indeed, inherit the leadership of the ancient Venatir Tribe. "Raszagal," she said. " I sense that my end is near. You must be prepared to rule my tribe. Go to nothing but the bitter extreme to save our people from the Conclave's will!"  
  
Raszagal nodded silently in acknowledgement. She would do her duty. 


	2. The Young and Restless

CHAPTER 2: THE YOUNG AND RESTLESS  
  
Judicator Kirinal made his entrance under the elaborately carved arch of the Tribunal's gateway, taking his place before the Conclave. At 800, he did not exactly possess an imposing physique, but there was an air of respect and authority about him. Every Protoss knew and respected Kirinal, Master of the Conclave and ruler of Aiur.  
  
The psionic emanations of all the Judicators filled the hall. Kirinal sensed every one of them thorough his nerve appendages. He sensed their deep respect, and maybe almost fear, towards him.  
  
"Executor," he said calmly. "Update me on the status of the Rogue Tribes."  
  
A young warrior of the Templar caste cautiously stepped forward, bowing his head in respect. His face lacked the strong, scaled ridges of a mature Protoss, and yet he already donned the traditional golden robes of a High Templar. His name was Adun.  
  
"Judicator," he said. "Our scouts have reported the presence of three Rogue Tribes, namely the Venatir, Sargas and Sorlyar Tribes. They desire no hostile action, but are neither willing to accept the Khala's law."  
  
"This is preposterous!" exclaimed the tall Judicator seated directly opposite Kirinal. " These tribes are openly displaying their disregard for the Conclave. I recommend that we exile them as was originally planned."  
  
As a newly appointed Judicator, Khanoz lacked much experience. He was silenced by a glare from Kirinal. "Khanoz, regain your composure!" ordered the Master of the Conclave. " It is unwise to jump to conclusions at your young age. Azcodan, I am leaving this matter in your hands."  
  
The 700 year-old Protoss beside Kirinal nodded. He was Kirinal's official heir, and would take his place when the old Master had completed his Rite of Passage. With that, Kirinal silently left the hall.  
  
" Judicator," said Adun, a hint of doubt in his voice. " I believe that the Rogues are capable of change and repentance. Permit me to educate them to the ways of the Khala, for the benefit of our race."  
  
Azcodan turned slowly to look at the young Templar. "Do you honestly think that way, Executor?" he challenged. "Interfere not in the matters of the Judicator caste, Templar, I hereby command you to eradicate every last remnant of the Rogue Tribes!"  
  
"Judicator," said Adun. " Grant them a cha-"  
  
"SILENCE!"  
  
Azcodan glared momentarily at Adun, then turned to address the Conclave. "This meeting is adjourned," he said.  
  
Adun watched as the Judicators quietly filed out of the room. In a few seconds, the vast hall was empty, with the exception of Adun and Judicator Khanoz. The tall, heavily built Judicator looked at the young Templar. "Something is wrong," muttered Khanoz. "Kirinal does not usually desert his duties that quickly."  
  
"Judicator Khanoz," enquired Adun, "Do you then agree with my plan on educating the Rogues?"  
  
The Judicator gave Adun a cold look. "Young Templar," he said. "The Rogues are charged with committing heresy. They will not readily accept the Khala, as they feel that their individual identities will be forsaken for the glory of the Khala. You may attempt to save them from their fate, but I will not ensure you the slightest chance of success."  
  
Adun looked down dejectedly, Khanoz, like all the other Judicators, was trying to discourage him from trying. He would prove to them that he was capable of carrying out this task. 


	3. Like Father, Like Son

CHAPTER 3: Like Father, Like Son  
  
The red-gold sky of Aiur radiated the strong, midday light of noon. Adun strolled out of the Tribunal, deeply lost in his thoughts. He did not know how he was going to succeed without the support of the Conclave.  
  
Stepping out through the high archway, Adun collided into a young Zealot, who stared at him in surprise. "Pardon me, Master Adun, for obstructing your path," apologised the young warrior.  
  
Adun looked at the Zealot, whose armour bore the markings of the Ara Tribe. There was a familiar look about the warrior's face, the proud way in which he carried himself and the very manner in which he spoke. He looked almost like... Khanoz.  
  
"I am his son, Master, my name is Aldaris," the warrior replied, almost as if he had read Adun's mind.  
  
A new idea dawned upon the High Templar. Aldaris could play a key role in earning Khanoz's support in educating the Rogue Tribes. "Aldaris," he asked. "Do you know of the Rogues?"  
  
Aldaris stared at him in horror. "Master Adun," he said. "You are forbidden to speak of them. They are heretics and traitors, who accept not the Khala. I am forbidden by oath of the Conclave to have the slightest dealings with them."  
  
Adun gazed upon the young warrior's face. He could sense Aldaris' willingness and zeal in obeying his masters, and knew then that he would have to carry his plans to fruition on his own. 


	4. Choosing Sides

CHAPTER 4: Choosing Sides  
  
The Velari tribesmen leapt out of the shuttles, their armoured feet tearing furrows in the fertile soil. Under the command of Executor Adun, they were prepared to go to their deaths for the sake of the Khala.  
  
The small group of Venatir Tribesmen, all which remained of their tribe's former glory, stood prepared for the final battle.  
  
Veladia looked up, knowing the end was here. To her utter surprise, Adun commanded his troops to halt, and slowly approached her. She gazed up at him uncertainly.  
  
"Matriarch," he said confidently, "These Templar warriors and I have openly defied the will of the Conclave and spared your lives. For this act of heresy, we will all be prosecuted under the Khala's law. I ask only one deed in return from you, that you will lead your tribe to accept the Conclave's rule. By doing so, you will have greatly lightened our penalty."  
  
"Why should I grant your request, Son of Aiur?" Veladia replied defiantly. "I care not for the Conclave or its policies."  
  
Adun was desperate. Now that he had risked everything to prove his worth to the Conclave, the Rogues would not accept his offer, and he would most probably be exiled.  
  
"Please, Matriarch," said Adun, feeling horribly embarrassed at his having to beg her to comply. " Accepting the Judicator rule will benefit your tribe as well as mine. For your own sake-"  
  
"Enough!" snapped Veladia. "I will allow you to instruct my tribe in the ways of the Khala, but we must not remain here, lest the Conclave discovers your treachery."  
  
*****  
  
So it came to pass that Executor Adun, after deserting the Conclave, led his tribe along with the other Rogue Tribes, into the secluded Kar'hrash valley. There he proceeded in instructing the younger Rogues to tap into the psionic matrix of their race.  
  
The young Protoss learned well, and Adun was beginning to feel more confident in the day that he would return to Antioch, bearing the proud news that he had educated the Rogue Tribes to the Khala's light.  
  
The Conclave would be pleased indeed. 


	5. To Pay the Price

CHAPTER 5: To Pay The Price  
  
10 years later.  
  
The sky of Aiur glowed in the soft gold hue of morning. A cool breeze rustled through the green boughs of the trees. Adun knew that it would be a good day. It would be today that he proclaimed his achievements before the Conclave, and claim the glory of bending the Rogue Tribes to the Khala's will.  
  
Veladia was pleased. She had seen Adun's determination and had since offered her wholesome support to him. Together they had come this far in educating her tribe to the Khala's light, and she knew that her contribution would not be overlooked. Little did the old Matriarch know that something had been overlooked: the fact that Raszagal had not made her presence in the tribe since the day that Adun arrived with his warriors.  
  
At midday, just before the first Rogue shuttle left for Antioch, a dark shadow fell over the peaceful valley. Adun looked up to see a fleet of Protoss ships, each of them bearing the markings of the Ara Tribe, and thus the Conclave.  
  
"Adun," exclaimed the Matriarch. "What is this? What are they here for?"  
  
The High Templar knew what the Conclave had arrived for. He knew that they had come to prosecute him for desertion, and for committing an act of heresy, of which the sentence would be death, or worse- exile.  
  
The Rogue tribesmen looked up uncertainly as Adun gave them the command not to attack. He was clinging on to the faint hope that he could explain himself to the Conclave, and be glorified eternally for his deeds.  
  
A shuttle flew down low, depositing two Judicators: Azcodan and Khanoz. Adun looked at them hesitantly.  
  
"Judicator Azcodan," he muttered, his voice edged with fear. "I have succeeded in bending the Rogues to the Khala's will. I was making preparations to return to Antioch today when-"  
  
Adun was cut off by the icy look that Azcodan gave him "Silence, Templar," Azcodan retorted coldly. "You have openly defied the Khala's will, and you will face its consequences."  
  
Without another word, Azcodan bound Adun's arms and led him into the shuttle. Khanoz looked away silently, his words echoing in Adun's head: I will not promise you the slightest chance of success.  
  
I disregarded his advice, thought Adun, and I have paid the price for doing so. 


	6. Fall of A Hero

CHAPTER 6: Fall of a Hero  
  
"Executor Adun," proclaimed Azcodan, "In disregarding orders and hiding the Rogues from the Conclave, you have openly defied the Khala's law."  
  
Adun did not reply. He knelt before the Judicator Caste, feeling the cold stone floor of the Tribunal beneath his feet. The coldness seemed to grip his entire body, worsening the fear that already clutched his heart.  
  
Azcodan continued with his proclamation, oblivious to Adun's discomfort. He paused to glance at the young Templar. "Judicator," said Adun, "I did what I felt was right. I did it for the benefit of everyone, the Rogues as well as the people of Aiur."  
  
"Adun," remarked Azcodan sternly. "Did you honestly believe that the Rogues would change their old ways? Would you let them into our provinces, thus bestowing them a chance to corrupt our people? Would you undo all that Khas has achieved!?"  
  
"No!" choked Adun in horror.  
  
"For your indiscriminate offence," continued Azcodan angrily. "You shall be stripped of all rank and officially exiled from Aiur!"  
  
"That would not be the wisest course, Azcodan," remarked Khanoz from the opposite end of the Tribunal. "To officially declare his exile, we would have to state our reasons. Do you wish to publicly acknowledge the Rogue presence on Aiur?."  
  
Azcodan looked at the tall Protoss uncertainly. "Then what would you advise us to do, Khanoz?" he remarked.  
  
"Exile the Rogues," replied Khanoz. "We will decide on this Templar's fate when the face of Aiur has been wiped clean of all Rogue influence!"  
  
Before Azcodan could reply, Judicator Kirinal, who had been keeping a low profile at the back of the hall, rose suddenly. In his hand he wielded a psimitar, an ancient but dangerously effective weapon of the Protoss. Only the highest- ranking Judicators were ever allowed to even touch one of these weapons.  
  
"Khanoz," snarled Kirinal. "You will maintain your silence. The fate of the Rogues is not for such a young Judicator to decide."  
  
The long tempered blade of the psimitar gleamed in the soft light. Khanoz knew Kirinal's trick. The old Master would not dare to use his weapon, for wounding one's brethren was a dishonourable act, punishable by anything between demotion and death.  
  
"Judicator Kirinal," said Khanoz firmly. "You have not been yourself lately. Why have you not attended the recent Conclave meetings? Why are you so defensive of the Rogues? Why, do I sense their tainted influence on your mind!?"  
  
Kirinal stepped back in horror. "You would accuse me of heresy?" he replied defiantly.  
  
Beneath his defiance, Khanoz sensed a slow recognition of the truth, and an utter feeling of dread and horror.  
  
"Kirinal," he said calmly. "You shall keep your secret no more. I declare you unfit to h-"  
  
Kirinal lunged forwards with an almost animal scream. The razor-sharp blade of his weapon sliced deep into Khanoz's shoulder, severing muscle and sinew. The Conclave retaliated in shock as Khanoz's massive form slackened to the ground, the left half of his torso neatly cleaved in half.  
  
"NO!" came the guttural roar from the back of the hall. The Judicators turned to see Aldaris spring forwards from his position of guard, covering the vast span of the hall in a few seconds.  
  
"Hold your rage, Zealot!" ordered Kirinal.  
  
Oblivious to the command, and caring not that Kirinal still wielded the deadly blade now stained with his father's blood, Aldaris ignited his psi blades, bringing them down hard on Kirinal's chest. The Zealot knew, with a feeling of dread, that he would be severely punished for his deed, but his anger surpassed his fear of the Conclave's punishment.  
  
The Judicator looked up weakly at Khanoz's son, sensing the sheer joy of vengeance beneath Aldaris' anger. The fiery look in the young warrior's eyes was the last sight he looked upon, before the darkness of death closed over his head.  
  
Aldaris drew his arms back, retracting his blades without a word. He then looked up to address the Conclave. "These Rogues have corrupted the very heart of the Conclave, they have blemished the Khala's light with their eternal darkness! From this day on, they shall be known only as the Dark Templar, and shall be cast into the dark void of space where they belong!"  
  
Azcodan looked upon the young Templar, nodding his head in approval. 


	7. The Final Betrayal

Chapter 7: The Final Betrayal  
  
The Protoss warriors stood tall upon the mountain, silhouetted against the evening sun. Clad in their magnificent battle gear, they were a terrific sight to behold. Each of them bore the red and gold metal armband of the Ara Tribe upon their upper right arms. Despite the fact that it had been founded less than a century ago, the Ara Tribe was already famous for their skill and valour upon the battlefield.  
  
In the front rank of the massive formation stood the warrior Aldaris. His hunger for revenge on his father's murder had cast aside all other thoughts from his mind. Still, he knew better than to give in to his rage, lest he become a slave to the dark side, like the accursed Dark Templar.  
  
The humiliated Executor Adun stood in front of the entire army. He had been given a final chance to prove his loyalty to the Khala, by removing the Rogue Tribes from the planet, forever.  
  
"Hold your forces," pleaded Veladia. "We shall accept the Khala's will. My warriors are ready to surr-"  
  
"Traitor," hissed a cold psychic voice, cutting off the old Matriarch's speech.  
  
All the thousands of Protoss turned to observe the newcomer. He, no, she, was clad in the dark robes of the Venatir Tribe, gathered about her waist by an embroidered sash. Veladia gasped as she recognized, Raszagal.  
  
"Fellow warriors of the Venatir Tribe, allies of the Sargas and Sorlyar Tribes," announced Raszagal. "In showing her willingness to submit her free will and all the free wills of her tribesmen to the Khala, your Matriarch Veladia has proven herself disloyal to our ancient cause. She is therefore unfit to hold the sacred command of the tribes."  
  
The wide plains buzzed with psychic murmurs of agreement from the thousand of Rogue warriors. Veladia looked astounded at her heir's willingness to challenge her right to the command of the Rogues.  
  
The tall, robed figure that was Raszagal calmly approached the old Matriarch.  
  
"Please!" exclaimed Veladia. "Only by submitting to the Conclave can we-"  
  
All the thousands of warriors, Ara and Rogue alike, turned to witness Raszagal ignite a long green energy blade from a unit on her wrist. No Protoss had seen such a weapon before. Judicator Azcodan, hovering above the battlefield in his command ship, merely looked amused.  
  
Veladia stared at Raszagal in terror.  
  
The younger Protoss laughed, slowly approaching the Matriarch. In a fluid twisting motion, she pierced Veladia through the abdomen. Veladia screamed a powerful psionic cry that shook the minds of all nearby Protoss. Blue blood spurted forth from the wound, laying the first of many stains yet to fall upon the fertile soil of Aiur.  
  
A hoarse cry of protest rose from tsomewhere within the enormous army of Ara warriors. Raszagal tuned to witness a male Templar charging towards her, his psimitar poised to strike. He was.. Adun. 


End file.
